PRIDE AND THE POPPIES. 
“We little Red-caps are among the Corn, 
Merrily dancing at early morn ; 
We know that the Farmer hates to see 
Our saucy red faces, but here are we ! 
“We pay no price for our summer coats, 
Like those slavish creatures, Barley and Oats ; 
We don’t choose to be ground and eat 
Like our heavy-head neighbour, Gaffer Wheat. 
“Who dare thrash us, we should like to know ? 
Grind us, and bag us, and use us so ? 
Let meaner and shabbier things than we 
So stupidly bend to utility !" 
So said little Red-cap, and all the rout 
Of the Poppy clan set up a mighty shout ; 
Mighty for them, but, if you had heard, 
You had thought it the cry of a tiny bird. 
So the Poppy folk flaunted it over the field ; 
In pride of grandeur they nodded and reeled, 
And shook out their jackets, till nought was seen 
But a wide, wide shimmer of scarlet and green. 
